CHAPTER 5: AFTER
1787 Words
VESPER'S POV
We won.
I kept saying it.
We won.
The shop was mine. The roses were mine. The quiet was mine.
So why did I feel like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop?
October 4th. The day after.
I woke up at 5:30AM. Like always.
The letter was gone. Calder was gone. The council meeting was over.
But my body didn’t know it yet.
My hands still shook when I held the watering can. My chest was still tight. My brain kept saying: `What’s next?`
There was no next.
That was the problem.
I watered the roses. I cut three stems. I made terrible tea.
At 5:58PM, I was at the counter.
The door opened at 6:00PM.
Elias.
He looked different.
Not tired. Not worried.
Lost.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
He didn’t have the book. He didn’t have tea. He just had himself.
We stood there.
The silence was new.
Before, it was survival. Now it was... after.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
Honest.
That was worse.
“We should celebrate,” Maren said, bursting in at 6:15PM. She had cake. “We won, idiots!”
She put it on the counter. Chocolate. From town.
“I didn’t ask for this,” I said.
“You didn’t have to,” she said. “You won. Eat cake.”
We ate cake.
Standing. Behind the counter.
No one smiled much.
Because winning didn’t feel like I thought it would.
It felt empty.
“Why are you quiet?” Maren asked me at 7PM.
“Because I don’t know what quiet is without a fight,” I said.
She stopped chewing. “Oh.”
Elias didn’t say anything.
He just watched me.
At 7:30PM, he left.
Like always.
But it felt different.
Before, leaving meant he’d come back.
Now, leaving felt like... maybe he wouldn’t have to.
The next day. October 5th.
I opened at 6AM.
No one came.
Not even Maren.
The shop was too quiet.
I counted the roses. Twice.
At 6:00PM, Elias came.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
We sat in the greenhouse.
He didn’t bring anything. I didn’t make tea.
“We should talk,” he said.
“About what?”
“About what happens now.”
My stomach dropped.
“Are you leaving?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know what I am to you now,” he said. “Before, I was help. Before, I was fight. Now?”
He didn’t finish.
“Now you’re just here,” I said.
“Yes.”
“And you don’t know why.”
“No.”
I nodded.
“Me either.”
We sat in silence.
It wasn’t comfortable anymore.
It was raw.
October 6th.
I didn’t open the shop.
I stayed in the greenhouse.
I pulled weeds. I repotted. I cut until my hands bled.
Pain was easier than quiet.
Maren found me at noon.
“You’re hiding,” she said.
“I’m working.”
“You’re bleeding.”
I looked at my thumb. Same spot. Again.
“I don’t know how to be okay, Maren,” I said.
“Then don’t be,” she said. “Be messy. Be angry. Be scared. But don’t be gone.”
I cried that day.
For the first time since Aunt Livia.
Maren held me.
Elias didn’t come at six.
He texted.
`Can I come at 7?`
`Yes.`
He came at 7:02PM.
He looked wrecked.
“I didn’t come at six,” he said. “Because I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”
“I did.”
“I know.”
“Then why—”
“Because I’m scared too, Vesper.”
That stopped me.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Of what?”
“Of being useless now.”
I blinked.
“You were the fight,” he said. “You were the reason. Without that, what am I to you? A man who drinks terrible tea?”
I laughed. It hurt.
“Yes,” I said. “That’s all you are.”
He stared.
“I don’t need you to save me,” I said. “I need you to sit.”
“Is that enough?”
“It has to be.”
He sat. On the floor.
I sat next to him.
We didn’t touch.
October 7th.
Dr. Moreau called.
“The roses are safe,” she said. “But they need care. They need someone who won’t sell them.”
“I won’t,” I said.
“Good. Because they’re not just plants, Miss Ashvale. They’re proof.”
“Of what?”
“That rare things survive.”
I hung up.
At 6:00PM, Elias came.
He brought soil.
Not flowers. Not gifts.
Soil.
“For repotting,” he said.
“Okay.”
We repotted for two hours.
Side by side.
Hands in dirt.
No talking.
It was the most peaceful I’d felt in weeks.
October 8th.
The day the hearing would’ve been.
I woke up and didn’t feel dread.
I felt... nothing.
Neutral.
That was new.
At 6:00PM, Elias came.
He didn’t sit on the floor.
He sat on the cot. Next to me.
Closer.
“Vesper,” he said.
“Yes.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know.”
“I don’t know what this is.”
“I know.”
“But I know I don’t want to stop coming at six.”
My heart hurt.
“Then don’t,” I said.
He looked at me.
“Can I?”
“Can you what?”
He reached out. Slow.
His hand hovered near mine. Not touching.
Asking.
“Yes,” I whispered.
His fingers touched mine.
Cold. Warm.
He didn’t hold my hand.
He just touched it.
Like it was a rose.
Like it might bruise.
We sat like that until 7:30PM.
Then he left.
October 9th.
I woke up and the shop didn’t feel like a bunker.
It felt like a home.
I opened the door at 9AM.
For the first time in years.
A woman came in at 10:30AM.
“I heard about the roses,” she said. “The black ones. Can I see?”
“Yes.”
She bought one.
$40.
First sale in months.
She said, “It’s beautiful. Not ugly at all.”
I didn’t cry.
Much.
At 6:00PM, Elias came.
“I heard you had a customer,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He sat.
We talked.
About soil. About rain. About nothing.
At 7:00PM, he said, “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to keep coming?”
I looked at him.
Really looked.
Tired eyes. Scared eyes. Real eyes.
“Yes,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because six o’clock is mine,” I said. “And you’re in it.”
He exhaled. Like he’d been holding his breath for days.
“Okay,” he said.
October 10th.
Calder sent flowers.
White lilies.
To the shop.
With a note: `For your new beginning.`
I threw them out.
Then I bought black roses from myself.
I put them in a vase. On the counter.
Maren saw them.
“Petty,” she said.
“Accurate,” I said.
Elias came at six.
He saw the roses.
He didn’t say anything.
He just smiled.
A real one.
Small. But real.
October 11th.
It rained.
Hard.
The greenhouse leaked in a new spot.
Elias and I patched it together.
His shirt got wet. My hair did too.
We were laughing by the end.
I don’t remember the last time I laughed with someone.
At 7:30PM, we were both soaked.
“You should go,” I said.
“I should.”
He didn’t.
He stood there. Dripping.
“Vesper,” he said.
“Yes.”
“I’m not good at this.”
“At what?”
“At being... after.”
“I’m not either.”
“Can we be bad at it together?”
I looked at him.
Wet. Tired. Honest.
“Yes,” I said.
He stepped closer.
Not to kiss me.
Just closer.
Our foreheads touched.
For a second.
Then he pulled back.
“I should go,” he said.
“Okay.”
He went.
October 12th.
I didn’t wait for six.
At 5:30PM, I went outside.
I sat on the step.
He came at 5:59PM.
“You’re outside,” he said.
“I’m waiting.”
He sat next to me.
On the step.
We didn’t go in.
We watched the street.
White buildings.
One black shop.
“Do you regret it?” I asked.
“Regret what?”
“Staying.”
“No,” he said. “Do you?”
“Regret letting me in?”
“Yes.”
He looked at me.
“No,” he said.
We sat until it got dark.
Then we went inside.
October 13th.
I sold three roses.
Word was spreading.
“Black Petals,” people were calling it.
I didn’t correct them.
At 6:00PM, Elias came.
He had a box.
“What’s this?”
“Open it.”
Inside was a new sign.
Wood. Hand-painted.
`ASHVALE & THORNS`
And underneath, smaller:
`BLACK PETALS`
“You changed the name,” I said.
“No,” he said. “You did.”
I touched the wood.
It was smooth. New.
“I like it,” I said.
“Good.”
We hung it together.
At 7:00PM.
October 14th.
Two weeks since six o’clock started.
I was scared.
Scared this was the peak. Scared it would end.
At 6:00PM, Elias came.
He didn’t sit.
He stood in front of me.
“Vesper,” he said.
“Yes.”
“I don’t know what tomorrow is.”
“Neither do I.”
“I don’t know what we are.”
“Neither do I.”
“But I know I want to find out.”
My breath caught.
“At six?” I asked.
“At six,” he said.
“Every day?”
“Every day I can.”
I nodded.
“Okay,” I said.
He didn’t kiss me.
He didn’t hold me.
He just said, “Okay.”
And sat down.
Next to me.
October 15th.
I woke up and didn’t count the hours.
I counted the roses.
There were enough.
At 6:00PM, the door opened.
Elias.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
We sat.
The tea was still terrible.
We still drank it.
The quiet was still there.
But it wasn’t empty.
It was full.
Full of us.
Full of after.
And for the first time,
After didn’t scare me.
*END OF CHAPTER 5*
- Writer
